Fragile Lives
by Scouse
Summary: Things have changed for them both over the past months since she almost died. But they're not over. How will Ana cope when something precious is stolen from her? How will Sawyer cope when he realises he should've been there for her since the beginning?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Fragile Lives

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Sawyer/Ana-Lucia with a very tiny weeny hint at Jana and Skate every so often...but merely for dramatic purposes.

Summary: Things have changed for them both over the past months since she almost died. Lots of things. But they're not over. How will Ana cope when something precious is stolen from her? How will Sawyer cope when he realises he should've been there for her since the beginning?

Warnings: Violence possibly in later chapters but I will give full warning when and if it happens. Drama? Angst? Peril? Yup.

Status of Fic: WIP

Author's Notes: I know I shouldn't be starting a new fic when I still have TMaS to finish off and two more fics in the Quadrilogy to plan out and start...but I couldn't resists this plot bunny. An idea that has been mulling around in my head (and the Sana thread for a while. I've even seen some beautiful manips by **Hoelli** that would fit very well as illustrations!) Marvelous, super thanks go to **Becky Thatcher** who took the time to beta this for me! Thankies Darling! Anywho, I'll stop rambling now. Please, as ever, leave a little review. It'll make my day! 

Disclaimer: Me no owny. Sad? Isn't it?

Fragile Lives.

**Chapter 1: The Night is Young**

The beach was dark and silent for the most part. Save for the lapping of the waves against the shoreline as the tide made it's lazy way back in and the pale grey light of dawn slowly faded in along the horizon. Morning was still a fair way off from breaking however.

The many campfires that had littered the length of the habited sands in the evening, usually golden but now painted silver and cool blue beneath the moon's pale eyed gaze, had long since burned themselves down into nothing but smouldering embers, mimicking the sleepy hush that had fallen over the survivors of the tiny community.

Someone coughed in his sleep. A hacking and persistent cough that was no doubt a painful and tedious reminder of the too many cigarettes smoked what seemed a lifetime ago by the cough's owner.

Someone rustled and fumbled beside their makeshift shelter for their water bottle, to quench a thirst brought on by the dry air of the night.

A little further down the stretch of beach, a woman giggled lightly, countered immediately by a deep, rumbling murmur of reprimand by her male companion, telling her to be quiet before they both fell silent, most likely indulging themselves in more frivolous and pleasurable activities.

That was the way it always was. It was the same every night and every night one person sat staring out at the coming morning, hearing it all, waiting.

She was tired. So tired that deep shadows ringed her eyes and her head throbbed with that empty ache behind the temples that betrayed how little sleep she'd actually had over the past few weeks.

Her body wanted nothing more than to lie back down on the soft sand and blankets inside her shelter and drift into oblivion. To sleep for a whole day. Two days. More even! She needed it but she knew that she couldn't. Not since things had changed. Not since all those months ago when the world had turned upside down and dumped everything on top of her, bringing back memories from her past, unbidden and unwanted, to the forefront of her mind again. Bringing back the guilt and the regret and the sense of desperation that had clawed at her and consumed her until she'd taken justice that one step further and turned it into vengeance and murder.

But, over time, those memories had been suppressed once more, forced back down to where she had successfully kept them hidden before the Island and everything on it had happened to her. She was good at hiding things, at distracting herself from the emotions she carried bottled up inside of her. Besides, she had more than enough going on in her current, everyday life to keep her mind from wandering very far down the dangerous road back to her past.

As if on cue a cry split the stillness of the night air sending Ana-Lucia Cortez's head snapping automatically back in the direction of her cobbled together home a scant few feet behind her. An irrational panic rose suddenly in her chest, past the exhaustion and weariness until she was fully awake, adrenalin buzzing around her veins instead, ready for whatever was to be thrown at her.

Worries flashed through her mind at a million miles per second, like 'Was she alright? Were those cries out of pain or merely just hunger?' And she couldn't stop them, no matter how many times Jack told her that everything was fine. Nothing was wrong. Those cries were normal.

Sending a quick, wary glance around her into the darkness, Ana-Lucia pulled herself to her feet and crossed the sparse distance back to her shelter in two short, fast steps, swiping at the blue plastic sheet that Jack had presented her with, a long time ago upon her arrival on that side of the island, which they'd hung together to keep her dry. It was now used as her doorway, keeping the prying eyes of the other survivors out since she had become the talk of the beach and the subject of speculation. An enigma. That was what she was to them all now. Not as if she'd been an open book before…everything had happened, but now they seemed intent on trying to figure her out rather than just asking her outright. In fact, she'd be more willing to tell them if they did simply just ask her their many snooping questions face-to-face. She could respect them then, a little at least, for having the nerve to. But, instead, they sat around in their little groups and cliques, lazing in the shade of a palm tree or huddled about a fire for warmth and mumbled their own opinions and theories about her behind raised hands, their eyes following every move she made.

Stooping and ducking inside her home she paused and blinked several times, allowing her eyes to adjust to the deeper gloom inside, the light of the moon not able to find it's way within, and she let her eyes sweep down to the ground to fall upon the source of the plaintive wails.

She lay in a mass of blankets and pillows that Ana had scavenged from the hatch and the unclaimed belongings pile, although most of the stuff had been picked over and distributed between the rest of the community a long time before she and her fellow Tailies had arrived there on the scene, so she'd had to make do with what was left. Her tiny pink fists clenched and unclenched, flailing in the dimness for something, anything, to anchor herself to, looking for reassurance. It was the same every night even though she'd just been put down to sleep an hour before hand after her late night feed and wouldn't need nursing again until the morning if Ana was lucky. And yet she still cried, louder and more forcefully as if she sensed her mother's sudden presence and was demanding to know exactly what she was intending on doing to comfort her.

A small, weary smile curled the corner of Ana's lips upwards. She certainly was her daughter. She knew what she wanted and she knew how to get it too. Demanding was what she was, barely three weeks in the world and she was already near on running the show.

"Shhh. It's okay, I'm here now." She soothed, voice little more than a gentle rumble in the dark and, as she knelt down before the child, she offered a finger to those blindly flailing arms.

Automatically a little fist clamped about it, tighter than Ana would have thought possible of a baby so young until she reasoned that she was a little Cortez after all and chuckled to herself, gently lifting the tiny bundle up into her arms. Rocking her, stroking a hand over her soft, dark curls covering her head, trying to settle her back down into sleep so that she, herself, could put her head down for a few hours before the sun rose back into prominence in the sky and both the heat of day and the whispered gossip resumed once more.

The baby refused, however, her cries only becoming more persistent and shrill and Ana became aware of the irritated mutters coming from the shelters in the near vicinity of her own. The other survivors knew things were difficult for her and she presumed that it was merely their lack of sleep that was irritating them more than her inability to calm down her daughter and preserve the silence. She was new to the whole parenting game, like Claire had been when she'd given birth to Aaron though she was now a seasoned pro almost a year on, and like Sun still was, having only been a mother for a month or so longer than Ana. Her neighbours were generally understanding having suffered so many crying, inconsolable babies since the plane crash that they were almost use to it.

…But it was the third week in a row that their sleep had been interrupted like this and nerves and tempers were wearing thinner than usual.

"You're getting yourself all worked up for nothing, you know that?" Ana queried matter-of-factly of the little scrunched up face, mouth a tiny black 'oh' shape, darker than any of the dim shadows in the shelter at that moment as she paused to take a breath, refilling her lungs and readying herself for a more startling crescendo. "Come on, M'hija."

But the baby ignored her and eventually Ana shook her head and stood. She struggled her way through the blue tarp doorway stepping back out into the night air, with an effort, outside her home in the hopes that a walk in the fresh sea air might settle her a bit more, while at the same moment keep her neighbours happy. She cradled her baby's head to her chest protectively, before straightening in the darkness and letting out a weary sigh as the cries only continued louder, resounding down the beach, past the silent shelters with their owners trying to remain asleep within.

She stood for a moment longer, still a little dazed from lack of sleep and the resumed aching of her back muscles that had begun to twinge again as soon as se had lifted her daughter back into her arms.

"Lord, that child has a set of pipes on her." The deep, southern drawl came from behind her with a chuckle, causing her to spin suddenly to face him. She'd been so preoccupied that she'd not even heard his feet crunching in the sand as he had swaggered out of the shadowy tree line and down towards her. But then again that was not a surprise when all of her attention was currently focused upon the squirming bundle of rage in her arms.

"Can tell who she takes after." His grin lanced sideways on his mouth, making his blue eyes twinkle at her from beneath his amused brows as he tipped an imaginary hat to her in salute with a knuckle tweaked at his forehead. He paused before her, glancing down at the tiny scrunched up face peeping through the blue airline blanket that she was wrapped in.

Ana was a little surprised to see him there, stood before her, to say the least. Things had been strained between them at best since they'd met that very first time at the end of a fist and a foot and, as time and their curious acquaintance had worn on, things had only gotten harder…especially when she'd been unable to keep her pregnancy hidden from them all any longer, what with only that clinging black vest top to her name.

She had started 'showing' even before Sun had, but unlike the Korean woman who was actually a month or so further on in her pregnancy, Ana had never told anyone of her condition directly. Ana-Lucia Cortez had never been one for wasting her breath and time stating the obvious, apart from the fact that it was her own business and none of theirs. Leave them to their idle wonderings, she had thought. It kept them happy and distracted at least and if that was the only contribution to the community that she was able to offer while she was in her delicate situation, so be it.

She shuffled in the sand before him as he considered the child in her arms with a fascination not wholly expected but at the same time not entirely surprising considering his relationship to her.

Sawyer was the type of man who liked to keep his options open. No strings. He didn't want to be tied down to just one woman for the rest of his days, whether they remained on the Island until death claimed them all or whether the rescue boats ever did come for them. He'd shown as much by taking off into the jungle for a week and a half after it had been unofficially confirmed that yes, Ana-Lucia was indeed expecting, and he'd only come back when Kate had tracked him down and persuaded him to return to the beach.

Ana-Lucia knew his type well. Hell, she'd worked with men like him for most of her adult life on the police force. Happy to live the single life of bar-fights, booze and one-night stands and she had never expected any more of the blonde southerner. He didn't owe her anything and even if he had, she'd never have taken it anyway for the sake of her own pride. She'd never deluded herself into thinking that either of them were going to change their ways or towards each other merely because of one tumble in the jungle.

The doctors had always told her that she'd never be able t have kids after her shooting and she had believed them, though it had broken her heart to come to terms with it. She'd tried to convince herself that that had been the only reason why she had allowed herself to lower her guard and had slept with Sawyer for the chance to get her hands on that gun of his…but hell! Who was she kidding? She knew deep down that she would have done it anyway, even if she'd known that nine months down the line she'd be a miracle mom. A gift from the Island Locke had tried to tell her once but that had only provoked an arched eyebrow from her.

"Why don't you let me take her for a few hours?" Sawyer queried suddenly, drawing her from her many contemplations as he held out a thick finger for the baby to curl small, pebble-hard fists about. He glanced sideways at her from where he stood in his lazy, slouched stance, one hand thrust casually into his jean pocket, the other suddenly smoothing over the little girl's cheek as if he was checking just how far Ana was willing to let him go in getting to know the baby. "Let you catch up on some o' that beauty sleep, 'cause from the looksa things, Darlin', you _damn_ well need it."

That was just like him, to lace his request with an insult. He'd not changed a bit and she snorted, a wry, tired smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"I'm fine." She responded finally but they both knew it was a barefaced lie brought about by her stubborn pride.

The comment went ignored.

"C'mon," her tried again, his other hand slipping from the captivity of his pocket and touching her elbow lightly, placating. "I can help you out. Girl needs to know her Daddy someday, Chi-"

"She's not-" she tried to swallow the falsehood before it lashed it's way from her defensive tongue but she couldn't and he stopped it for her, not even willing to entertain it.

"Bullsht!" he hissed dangerously, cutting her off abruptly. A frown darkened the colour of his eyes to night blue and his teasing and amused smile vanished into a grim, thin line. He felt strongly about it then that was for sure. "That's a damn _lie_ and you know it, so don't even bother." He snorted. "The rest of this here motley crew of beach bums may be clueless enough to question but gimme a little credit where it's due, Sugar. I can do my math. I can see she's mine."

Ana, compressing her own lips and, after a long, drawn out heartbeat beneath his stare she nodded her assent begrudgingly.

While she couldn't force him to want to _be_ with his daughter, equally neither could she _deny_ him the right to see her, even if he wasn't quite ready to admit it to the masses just yet and that was fine by her. Still, that didn't mean that she trusted him either.

"Stop worryin'." He chuckled suddenly as if he'd read her mind or noticed that her thoughts were elsewhere from the vacant expression on her face. His previous irritation dissipated entirely and replaced by his dimpled grin once more, trying to win her over. "I got me a way with the rugrats…just go ask Mamacita. She'll set you straight."

"I've no doubt." Ana countered, tone dubious and having to growl a little louder than usual over the continuous crying. She was tired. Oh so tired and all she wanted was an hour or so to catch up on a little sleep…that was all. She glanced down at her daughter's face and then back up at Sawyer's, waiting patiently for what was perhaps the first time in his whole damn life. "Alright." She responded and immediately she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. "But _only _an hour or two. No longer. She'll need feeding at six."

"I got it. I got it!" Sawyer grinned, waving a hand at her dismissively and Ana wondered if he was actually listening to her at all or just grunting out his reply to get her off his back.

"An hour, sawyer. Promise me."

He tutted, clicking his tongue beneath his breath at her in impatience almost. "Sure, sure, Muchacha. Whatever you say. An hour."

His arms snaked forth between her own and the baby's back, cradling the little body in his strong grasp. His skin was warm and smooth against hers but Ana shook her head, pushing those thoughts from her mind entirely and concentrating on the task at hand and preparing Sawyer for his _own_ task.

"Watch her head! You gotta support her neck."

"I got her!" Sawyer hissed back, stepping away so that finally Ana's arms slipped away leaving the child cradled to him instead.

Her arms fell, suddenly heavy and useless beside her body as she stood watching him, so gently cupping the downy, dark haired head and almost immediately the cries subsided into nothing more than sniffles.

"Told ya." Sawyer smirked smugly at Ana's tired, watchful eyes. "What are _you_ still doin' here? Go sleep 'fore I change my damn mind!"

She rolled her eyes in retort, taking a few steps backwards to where she knew her tent was, unwilling or unable to stray her gaze from the baby's suddenly comforted form. And, before she could change her own mind, she ducked down, making to enter her shelter before her worries overtook her exhaustion once more and she swept back to reclaim her child from him.

"Hey, Lulu?" Sawyer's voice called, stopping her short mid-motion and she glanced back over her shoulder, catching his eye, swiping at a strand of hair that fell into her gaze.

His blue eyes were curious, flashing up to meet hers and then, as if drawn magnetically, they slipped back down to his charge's bright-eyed face.

"She got a name yet?"

And Ana nodded.

"Luana."

oOo  
Please r&r...if you fancy that is. I'm working on a better summary 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Fragile Lives 

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Sawyer/Ana-Lucia with a very tiny weeny hint at Jana and Skate every so often...but merely for dramatic purposes.

Summary: Things have changed for them both over the past months since she almost died. Lots of things. But they're not over. How will Ana cope when something precious is stolen from her? How will Sawyer cope when he realises he should've been there for her since the beginning?

Warnings: Violence possibly in later chapters but I will give full warning when and if it happens. Drama? Angst? Peril? Yup.

Status of Fic: WIP

Author's Notes: Thank you all so much for your reviews. I promise that I will reply to you all seperately when I have a little more time.

For now it's just a fleeting visit to update with a far too long awaited chapter 2

Hope it's worth it...but I think I rushed it a bit at the end. i may go back and change it.

Disclaimer: Me no owny. Sad? Isn't it?

**Chapter 2: Suspicious Minds. **

Flashback

At first she had brushed it off merely as the stress caused by the whole episode with Michael and the prisoner formerly known as Henry Gale. She could even still feel the icy fear that had settled and clenched in her chest like a hard, unrelenting, frigid fist as Michael had looked down at her and she up the barrel of the gun that had once been hers…and Sawyer's before that.

Yes, she had told herself, after that moment, that split second when Michael had held her life in his hands and had almost sentenced her to death, her body was bound to be a little out of sync with her usual like-clockwork cycle. That was all it came down to and she even believed it herself for a time…until the second month came and went much the same as the first had, setting warning bells flaring in her mind.

Either something was very, very wrong with her…or, juxtaposed to that, everything was working exactly as nature had intended it to.

She hadn't been quite sure which of those two notions had scared her the most.

Ana-Lucia shielded her eyes against the harsh glare of the early morning sunlight as she scoured the beach, turning her head first one way and then the other, checking that everywhere was clear, that everyone was either busy or still sleeping in that premature hour, before she began her way across the slowly heating sands and to a certain shelter. One that she'd never entered…not even allowed herself to pass too close by for fear or hope that the owner would pop his tousled blonde head out between those blue tarps of his doorway and lure her in with a silver tongue and honeyed, serpentine words. Smooth as silk and warm as the sun currently heating her back.

The small rounded windows of the piece of plane wreckage that had been used to give his home at least one sturdy wall, winked at her, reflecting the burning fire of the sunrise racing up the sky above the seascape behind her. The heat of the fierce orange and red colours there, in the remains of the glass porthole-like casements momentarily blinded her. And so she turned her gaze to the safety of her feet, eating up the sand as if the Devil himself were on her tail. Bright flashes and blurs, the hot reminder of the sunlight that had been scorched into her retina dancing across the scuffed toes of her brown leather boots, beaten up by far too much walking and hiking and running when they'd only been purchased back in the real world because Danny had told her, when she'd forced him out with her on one of her few and far between shopping excursions, that they 'looked cute with her jeans'.

Shaking her sudden and unexpected thoughts of Danny from her head, Ana looked up once more, finding herself standing in the shade of her destination a little sooner than she had expected. A little sooner than she felt comfortable with. She didn't particularly relish the thought of going in there. Not because of the shelter's owner or what had happened between them all of…what was it now? Two months ago? Two months of practically ignoring each other, save for the burning, almost undressing her, glances that he would shoot across to her when she was in his line of sight. He'd tried to speak to her a number of times. Joking banter at first and then, as time wore on and nothing changed between them, he became more serious in his persistent inquiries. But every time he opened his mouth, she'd cut him off halfway through and make excuses as she shied away from him like a skittish pony spooked by something sensed and not seen.

Then he had stopped trying altogether, settling for attempting to communicate with his eyes instead. Sea blue and so deep and full of…something, God only knew what it was, lurking behind the bright surface that she could not begin to understand…nor allow herself to try to.

It didn't work like that. Not in her life. It wasn't meant to. People weren't meant to get so close to her. She wasn't meant to let them. They only ended up getting hurt that way, she knew from experience…too many experiences. But she had to ponder that. What was it that really scared her so much about letting people near to her, letting them know her more personally? Was it her past clawing at her memory, scratching at the back of her mind? A constant reminder of the things that she had done wrong before? Was it his past, Sawyer's past, that concerned her really or her lack of knowledge about it? Was it the unknown and her lack of control over the whole situation as it spiralled out of control, over and over like a brightly coloured child's spinning top. Faster and faster, making her feel dizzy. And lately, nauseous, though she had her own theories about the sudden urge to retch that had begun plaguing her.

She shifted in the sand and considered the doorway once more. She needed to be practical about things…and yet, still disinclination to enter tugged at her stomach. Still reluctant to venture into that tent. Simply because of what exactly it was that she was going in there to find. What she was going in there to steal. The mere notion that she needed the thing she was searching for just made her predicament, if her body was displaying the right signs, seem more real when in fact a part of her still believed it to be anything but.

It couldn't really be happening to her again. Not now of all times. Could it?

How did she end up in these crazy situations? Was someone sitting up above and planning them out for her just to see how well she coped with the trials and tribulations that the "Island" had been throwing at her since the plane crashed down?

Shaking her head clear of the endless questions undulating and pounding behind the skin of her temples, she flicked her eyes around one last time, making sure that the near vicinity was still clear before finally ducking through and into the shady relief that was Sawyer's home. After all, she had to be quick if she wanted to find what she was looking for before he came back from his early morning, daily ritual of 'fruit picking' and caught her in the act red handed.

What she found surprised her. So much so that she froze, half in, half out of the entrance for a moment. Simply taking it all in with a sweeping brown-eyed gaze. Slow enough to note the details before her.

Hazy beams of light slanted down from the windows. Warm and smoky golden columns glittering and sparkling with a shower of dust and grains of sand, that had been kicked up by her arrival, swirled and floated amid the dimness that was still hot with breath and sleep and Sawyer's not long departed presence.

Two blue Oceanic Air blankets spread neatly across the sand in the far right hand corner, running along the metallic wall that had once been the aircraft ferrying them all to their destination of L.A. deep in it's doomed belly. A stack of books wedged against the other wall tightly, with a fist sized rock at either end as makeshift bookends keeping them where he had deigned to put them.

It was bizarre actually, how neat and tidy the small living space was, considering that the owner himself always looked scruffy and unkempt. His jaw-line always peppered with the shadows of an almost beard. His hair always tousled as if he had just been pulled through a bush backwards. His clothes crumpled and slouched and half buttoned, leaving his smooth, hairless, tanned chest on display or a glimpse of toned stomach muscles and the small of his back as he stretched or lounged or leaned casually against a palm tree, as if he had been too lazy to finish dressing that morning…as if he had slept in his clothes. And perhaps he had. Ana herself had but a scant few items of clothing to change into and when the temperature stooped and dropped as it sometimes did on those long nights, she needed every garment that she could pull on hastily to keep the chill away.

And so, as she had always thought that his tent would be in the same state as his appearance she was mildly shocked to find the place looking not just a little more inviting than her own shelter.

She slipped further inside, shuffling, head bent beneath the low ceiling until she reached the other side in a few strides and knelt down there, beside what she was looking for. His backpack. The one that he had carried with him on that muggy, bleary, muddled afternoon that she had followed him deep into the surrounding jungle in an attempt to get his gun.

And boy, did she.

But she shook those memories from her head and unzipped the bag, the sense of urgency for her to be swift with her little 'robbery' resuming it's place in the pit of her stomach. Turning it upside down she emptied it all onto the sand before her and scoured the contents. Searching, searching…Where the hell were the medical supplies? She had overheard Sun saying that Sawyer had them all stashed away in his shelter…

"Sawyer?" sand crunched outside, snapping Ana-Lucia's head in the direction of the sound mingling together with the voice calling out for the tent's owner. "Sawyer? I need - What the hell are you doing?!"

The tarps swished sideways, shifting out of her way as she ducked in, much as Ana-Lucia herself had moments before but she stopped dead in her tracks. The two women staring at each other in silence and motionlessness. The startled green eyes glared into those of brown, widening in the shock of seeing her, Ana, in the last place on earth that anyone would have thought she'd be. The brunette's mouth opened and closed a few times as if she was trying to force out some sort of accusation but her mind had suddenly gone blank. Eventually though, she blinked a few times and shifted her gaze from Ana's face down to the spread of belongings spilled out onto the sand before her and the words started flowing again and tumbled out without much need for forcing them or thought.

"You're stealing from Sawyer?!" she accused incredulously, answering her own previous question, curling a wavy brown lock of hair behind her ear.

"I'm looking for something." Ana replied evenly, turning her attention back to the scattered objects. Several colourful plastic lighters, long since burned dry by use. A broken walkman that had a missing 'play' button. A multitude of batteries, all more than likely as dead as dodos, their energy spent by usage, or lack there of. CDs, pens and chewed-ended pencils, coins from a wide variety of different countries…but nothing even remotely to do with what she was looking for. What she had risked stepping inside that tent for.

Suddenly, Kate's voice rang out through the hot air again, reminding Ana that she was still there and stirring more of the tension that was already between them as she folded her arms across her chest and quirked an eyebrow and the ebony haired woman's crouched down form.

"I thought you were a police officer?" she murmured with an almost snort, sand shuffling as she shifted. "Aren't they supposed to stop crimes from happening?"

"That's my business…" Ana responded absently, hands still flying over the spilt contents of the bag as if doing so was suddenly and magically turn one of the objects into what she wanted.

They fell silent again for a long moment. But Ana knew Kate well enough by now to know that she wasn't likely to let the subject drop any time soon. She was burning to know what had brought Ana into Sawyer's domain, rummaging through his stash so intently. She could feel it almost as strongly as she could feel Kate's eyes scorching into her back, watching her every movement.

"What are you looking for?" the query was spoken lightly, in possibly an attempt at disinterest but Ana wasn't fooled by a long shot.

"Nothing." she stated carefully, scooping up the mess that she had just created and stuffing the belongings that weren't actually Sawyer's but more than likely stolen from the other survivors, alive and dead, back into the maroon backpack. She zipped it closed and replaced it in it's previous position, hoping beyond all hope that somehow her presence, her rifling and searching would go unnoticed by the con man's all seeing eyes when he eventually returned home.

"C'mon, Ana. You just said that -" Kate persisted with a slightly impatient huff but Ana-Lucia cut her off abruptly, tiring of her interrogation. No doubt any and all information gleaned from her by Kate was obviously intending on repeating to Sawyer when she next saw him. Perhaps she wanted to win herself some 'brownie points'…maybe she wanted a pat on the head and a 'good girl'.

Ana smirked to herself.

"Just some Aspirin, alright? I've got a migraine coming on…" she lied, eyes dancing around, scrutinizing the area for any signs of a hidden stash but her attention was snatched away from her task again. This time by a chuckle…at her expense it seemed.

"Good luck finding any in here." Kate giggled, brushing hair from her emerald eyes again and re-wrapping her arms about herself, perhaps in protection, keeping a barrier between them as Ana turned slowly, eyebrows drawn together in a confused frown, and stood to her full height, though her head still dipped slightly beneath the low ceiling.

"What's that supposed to mean?" her eyes fixed onto Kate's for the second time since she had discovered her there going through another's private belongings and this time, the green irises lanced sideways, almost reluctant to hold Ana's gaze. Definitely uncomfortable beneath the sudden scrutiny upon her. She was a good little actress though, Ana had to admit. Even if she didn't feel confident in herself, she damn well made it look like she did and a flash of remembrance made Kate's face brighten slightly. A joke that Ana wasn't privy to apparently and the slim, shorter woman rubbed at her forehead and grinned wider still, shaking her head at the past events.

"Jack beat Sawyer in a poker game a couple of months ago now. He won all the medical supplied off of him. They're with Jack in the hatch now." she seemed to be ecstatic that she had known something that Ana hadn't. She took pleasure in the look of confusion on the other woman's face.

And Ana merely nodded in response before sidestepping the smiling brunette and slipping back out into the sunlight from the shade of Sawyer's shelter.

"Thanks for the heads up."

"You must have a pretty bad migraine to go to all this trouble just for a couple of Aspirin…" Kate spun, following Ana with her eyes again, curious. It's was clear to see on her face that she didn't believe the story about having a migraine.

But Ana was beyond caring. She had more important things to worry about than Kate tattling to Sawyer that Ana had been going through his things. More important than the gossip that would soon be tearing around the community. More important than the superior smirk twisting Kate's lips up that gave Ana the worrying and distinct impression that she knew something. Something about Ana's predicament.

She shrugged, barely stopping to glance back over her shoulder and reply to Kate's sly words with her own that thrummed beneath with a warning that Kate should keep her nose out from where it didn't belong. 

"Yeah…you've got no idea."

End Flashback.

-oOo- 

Please r&r...if you fancy that is. :)


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